The Scent of Coffee South Park Fanfiction
by DaisyMuffins
Summary: After Tweek Tweak's parents are arrested for murder, it is down to Tweek to continue their 'family business'. However, when Craig Tucker walks back into his life, something inside of him changes.


Tweek's POV

I focus my vision forward onto the blood stained chrome sprawled out in front of me. A contraption built by myself for only a single purpose.

Murder.

I'm only 15 years old. According to some, I shouldn't even know what the word 'murder' means at my age. But I do. And I don't just know what it means, I know how it feels. I know the rush you get when you kill someone. I know what it's like to control death; have blood on your hands.

Everyone always asks me, 'Tweek Tweak, how does your coffee always taste so good?' It's the same way every other feel good food tastes good. Every single company has secrets, some dark, some not even close. But things just don't taste good without a little kick of what I like to call 'magic'.

Tied to the machinery in front of my is none other than Wendy Testaburger, Stan Marsh's notorious ex girlfriend and Craig Tucker's slutty one night stand. I never did like her. She's still out cold but as soon as she wakes up, I'll be sure she enjoys her last moments on this Earth.

As I wait, I begin thinking back on when I first started killing. It was all my parents idea, but they were stupid enough to get caught doing it. I, however, didn't. No matter how many times the police insist on interviewing me every time another person goes missing, I'll never give in. They never find anything suspicious about me, especially when I break down crying, saying how sorry I am that my parents used to do what they did.

But I'm better than them. I'm better than everyone in this town, maybe even this world. I know how it all works, everything the government try to cover up and hide from the people of their own countries. It's sickening. I'm doing everyone a favour - freeing them from this horrific cluster-fuck of emotions that is this world. They should be thanking me in their last breaths, not threatening me.

It's not like I'm doing this all for sport. To survive in this world, you need money. And how do I make money? The Tweak family way. I take the souls of the innocent and use them to make my money. They are the secret ingredient that everyone in this town so much as begs for, something they can't live without.

I singlehandedly turned this whole town into thirsty cannibals just for the sake of survival. It's kill or be killed.

My thoughts are interrupted as Wendy begins stirring. I snap back to reality and smirk to her as her eyelids flutter. When she's fully conscious, she closes her eyes once more and groans due to the sudden bright lighting. "What.. what's going on?" She asks out. I just continue to stare at her and smile in my normal, creepy fashion. When you control death itself, you may as well make it fun for those experiencing it. You have to be a good host, right?

"Ah, W-Wendy. Miss T-Testaburger. How are you t-today?" I try to shake off my stutter, yet fail. It makes me seem less scary, but if she had any doubts about how scary I can be she'll definitely have lost them by the end of the day.

"Tweek? Where are we? Help me, I can't move!" She thrashes against the chains locking her chest, wrists and ankles to the device. I continue smiling at her wickedly as I move closer, eventually standing directly in front of her. "Wendy, we're gonna d-do some c-cooking today." I wipe a fresh tear from her cheek and walk back over to the controls.

"What do you mean? Tweek! I can't cook if I'm chained up! What's going on?!" She struggles and stares at me wide-eyed. I just love to play mind games with the victims before I kill them. Because their deaths are usually quick, so I may as well at least make the emotional pain last longer.

"I'm gonna kill you, Wendy. And when I do, I'm gonna laugh when you cry." I state, laughing manically. She looks to me in horror, and if I were to record her just now, I could probably pinpoint the exact moment her heart shattered. "You're gonna what?!" She shouts, making me shush her dramatically. "You wouldn't want anyone to find us, would you?" I say, putting on a somewhat scared voice. The walls are soundproofed, really. I just love to hear victims shouting for help from someone who just isn't there.

"Help! Someone help me!" She shouts out, still struggling against the chains. I cackle and watch in satisfaction. "Oh no! We're only in my basement, someone will surely hear you from outside!" I sarcastically whine, having to stifle a laugh. "Help! Help me! This kid is crazy! Help me! Someone help me!" She continues repeating, shaking in fear as she does so.

I must look so sick and twisted, just stood leaning against the wall and smirking at her. "Tweek.. Tweek, please." She looks over to me and stares into my eyes with her glossy ones. "You don't have to do this.. you're just the cute little nerdy kid! You're not a murderer!" Wendy adds, crying even harder, as if that was possible. "I'm easy to m-misjudge, Testaburger. You're only c-complementing me because you're scared. I'm n-not cute and I'm not nerdy. So s-shut your big mouth."

"Think about it. If you let me go, I won't tell anyone about this! I promise." Wendy says somewhat sincerely, still looking me dead in the eyes. I try to muster up a legitimately sweet smile and creep over to her. As she's tied down to the machinery facing me, I can easily walk over and touch her as if she was voluntarily stood directly in front of me.

I stare into her eyes, my teeth gleaming in the dim lighting as I cup her cheek with one hand and rest the other on her shoulder. I lean in so that my mouth is directly outside of her ear, making sure she can hear me very well.

"Fucking liar."

I whisper, turning back around and moving to the control panel. With the simple press of a button, the machine starts up and begins roaring as the saw blade makes its way down, until it is directly in front of her chest. The saw chants in anticipation, telling me that it was time to finish up the job.

"Any last words?" I shout to her over the noise of the angered chainsaw. "Help!" She shouts, making me cackle once more and burst back into pure manic laughter. I pull down the lever and the saw plunges into her lungs, killing her instantly. I then push the lever back up and the saw blade retorts, returning back to its neutral position as the machine comes to a halt.

I then press another button, green this time, and a series of extraction devices find their way to her open wound, extracting the blood from her as her body becomes exceedingly more pale. Once the machine is done, it drops her body from the chains and onto the dirty floorboards. I smile in satisfaction, grab my nearby 'lucky' bucket and collect all of the blood from the device.

I then make my way up the basement stairs and drag her body along with me. I have some old garbage I still have to dispose of, so I'll just throw her useless corpse into one of those and take it away.

Taking my dad's old car, I climb inside and place the bags into the trunk, in hopes I haven't been seen. I then set out to Stark's Pond, where I generally dispose of bodies. If not, I go to the dump instead. But usually I get very strange looks at the dump when carrying huge black bags, and because of my parents' dark past, I don't want to raise any suspicion that I could be a part of their elaborate scheme.

I remember when I was younger. Way before I started to kill. Me and my parents would go everywhere in this very car, it was like a member of the family. My dad would always put on the radio and play his 'old man' music. I used to hate it then, but now I just wish I could go back. Sure, they opened the gates of hell for me and threw me in as if it was nothing, as if I could cope with killing at such a young age.

They changed me. Some may say for the worse, but I think they did me a favour. I would've liked to have had more time to process my family's secret ingredient, but time goes by quickly, and there's never enough. So my parents taught me before they had to go. Of course, they're now on death row because of all the 'horrible' things they did while alive. They knew they'd get caught, so they taught me in hopes I wouldn't. And over the years, after so many killings, I still haven't been caught once.

When I arrive at the pond, I step out and check that no one is around. There's no one for miles, I'm sure, no one ever comes here anymore. And the people who do are generally my victims, so people have learnt not to come around here.

I walk cautiously over to my trunk and take out the bag with her body in it. I then lock up my car and walk over to the lake, checking for people every second.

I lug the bag over to the lake and begin emptying the contents when I've thoroughly checked that no one could possibly be watching me. I glare around once more before pulling out her body and quickly moving some stones in the water to make a form of grave for her. Plunging the corpse into the water, I begin to cover her in various things - dirt, rocks, anything I can find as to not make it so suspicious.

Suddenly, there's a large rustling in the bushes behind me, and I swing around in horror. This is it.. I'm dead.

To my surprise, none other than Craig Tucker steps out, hands covered in blood. He doesn't even notice me. He steps closer to the lake and plunges his hand deep into the water, probably in an attempt to wash off the blood. I stare over at him in shock. His bright blue eyes half-lidded yet still glimmering in the sunshine.

"Craig Tucker?" I asked, sounding surprised and somewhat disturbed. I would have never thought Tucker would ever kill anyone. He's all talk, beating up kids who pick on him or his sister, but he's never drawn too much blood. Until now.

"Tweek Tweak?" He looks over to me. My hands are vaguely bloody from the remainder of the blood left inside of Wendy, which was no where near as much as Craig has seemed to acquire. He looks at my hands and smiles weakly, continuing to scrub his own.

"Same crime?" I ask quietly, thinking back on the Craig Tucker I used to know. The same guy who hooked up with me in a classroom after a school party near the start of this year. We didn't.. go all the way, but we got somewhere before we were caught. I miss that.. he was so nice to me. Oh shut up, Tweek, you're tough as iron and you don't love anyone. You don't even miss your parents.

He continues looking at me before chuckling to himself, lifting his hands from the water and wiping them on a rag he had pulled from his hoodie pocket.

"Same crime." He confirmed.


End file.
